Torn
by lildreamer7
Summary: UPDATED! As his concern for Stella grows, Mac must choose between his girlfriend and the woman he truly loves. SMacked with a bit of MacPeyton
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Torn

**Author:** lildreamer

**Rating:** K+

**Pairings:** SMacked with a bit of Mac/Peyton

**Spoilers:** Heart of Glass, The Ride-in, What Schemes May Come

**Summary:** As his concern for Stella grows, Mac must choose between his girlfriend and the woman he truly loves.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own CSI: NY or any of its characters.

**All right, on with the story…**

* * *

_There she was. _

_Despite the respirator and the IVs and the machines that surrounded her, he thought she looked beautiful. She'd always been beautiful to him. Even when her body had finally succumbed to the disease, effectively marring her beauty, she was still more beautiful to him than anything._

_He reached over and gently brushed the dark curls from her face, gazing at her sadly. The strongest woman he knew had become fragile and weak, a side effect of the disease. Her skin was as gray as a porcelain doll; her lips impossibly pale. The drugs that were making her sleep were powerful ones, but her eyelids fluttered as he watched, showing she was still there. Fighting._

_He knew that even though she was asleep, she might be able to hear, but he couldn't speak. Nothing he felt could be put into words. He wanted to give her the world, but he could only hold her hand._

_Tears suddenly blurred his vision when the reality finally hit him. She was dying. And there was nothing he could do about it. He couldn't save her. No one could. It would only be a matter of time before…_

_Choking back the knot in his throat, he let go of her hand and sighed heavily, turning to leave. He couldn't deal with this right now. He'd already seen too much death. Lost too many he cared for. And now he was about to lose her too._

_And though his heart screamed at him to stay and be with her, he stepped out the door, shoulders slumped, head hung low._

_He quietly shut the door and_ _leaned against the wall. _

This isn't really happening…she can't die…

_The emotion was suddenly beyond him and tears began to slide down his face. _

"_Mac?" A gentle hand touched his shoulder. "Are you okay?"_

_He quickly dried his eyes and turned around. Peyton was standing there, looking very worried._

_He gave her a small, sad half smile. "I'm fine. I just…" He couldn't finish. His eyes flooded with fresh tears._

_Peyton went to put her arms around him, pulling him into her embrace, but he pushed her away. _

_She looked confused for a moment. "Mac?"_

_Without a single word, he turned and ran out of the hospital, tears streaming down his face. Peyton stared after him._

"_Mac!"_

_Then her face changed. Dark curls replaced straight locks. Blue eyes became green. He was now staring into a face he knew very well. She looked up at him with heartbreakingly sad eyes._

"_Mac…"

* * *

_

Mac awoke with a start, breathing hard, beads of sweat dotting his face. He had the dream again.

Although he repeatedly impressed the importance of sleep to the rest of his team, rest would not come easily for him. Especially since Stella had confided in him about the possibility that she might have contracted HIV. He had tried everything—from warm milk to sleeping pills—but nothing seemed to work. He would lie in bed night after night, wide-awake, thoughts of his friend running through his mind. And when the occasional moments of rest did come, he would spend the night tossing and turning.

It was the nightmares. They all had nightmares. In their line of work, who wouldn't? But his were getting worse. So much so that they were beginning to interfere with him even when he was awake. During those times when he'd find himself in his office, alone with his thoughts, the images would return. Haunting images of his friend getting sicker and sicker while he just stood there, watching. Helpless to do anything about it. And the end was always the same—he ran away. From the pain. From the sorrow. From her. And try as he might, nothing could wash away the images.

He took a deep breath, running his hands over his face. His fingers stopped at his eyes. They were moist as if he'd been crying. But it was only a dream…wasn't it?

Something moved next to him, moaning sleepily. He twisted around in the sheets to look over at the person sharing his bed. Peyton. He'd almost forgotten. Actually, he'd been forgetting about her a lot lately. Not that he meant to. It's just that his mind was on other things—other people.

He turned back to face his side of the bed. His mind was on Stella. She was his best friend and he cared about her. He wanted to help her. Be there for her through all that she was going through right now.

But as his concern for her grew, he found himself slowly being pulled away from everything else. Leaving him totally lost and confused.

He was torn.

Torn between the two people he cared about most.

And he had no idea what to do.

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**Whaddaya think? Love it? Hate it? Want more? Reviews are muses!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, ya'll! Sorry it took me sooo long to update. Been busy. Got a new job. Anyway, I know that the result of Stella's test was already revealed, but I wanted to continue this story anyway. I'll work that into the story…you'll see. Enjoy and thanx 4 all the reviews!

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**

When Mac walked into the lab the next morning, he was greeted by the sight of a woman bent over a workbench, her dark curly hair making a stark contrast with her crisp white lab coat as she scrutinized a bloody knife. She didn't look up as the door clicked shut behind him, and he stood for a moment, smiling at the expression of fierce concentration on her face.

"What are you grinning at, Mac?" she asked, her eyes never leaving the evidence.

"Nothing, Stella. Nothing at all. It's just nice to see someone so absorbed in their work."

She gave a short "hmph," still not looking up, and Mac's smile broadened. Stella was one of the best CSIs at the lab, and for years she had been his right hand. In that time he'd come to appreciate her passion for her job, her limitless capacity for hard work, and her sharp intelligence. But most of all, he valued her warm and generous spirit. She might be pretending to ignore him right now, but they'd been through enough tragedy and heartache together in the past, with the deaths of his wife and her ex-boyfriend still painful every hour of every day, for him to know that she would drop everything—even a fascinating case like the one she was working on—if he needed her.

"So what's up, Stella? Did the results from DNA come in, yet?"

"No, not yet," Stella replied, returning the knife to its evidence bag. "Jane said she'd page me when it's ready."

"Good…good." Mac watched as she pulled her gloves off and put all the evidence bags back in the box, clearing the table for anyone else to use. "Well, while we're waiting, you wanna grab a cup of coffee or something?"

Stella's eyes brightened. "Really?"

"Yeah, my treat."

She turned to face him, smiling. "I'd like that."

"Great! Just let me grab my—" His cell phone chirped from his pocket. He paused, considering letting the call go to voicemail, but one glance at the caller ID made him change his mind.

"Hi, Peyton."

"Hey, Mac," the woman's cheery accented voice responded from the other line. "Are we still on for lunch later?"

"Lunch? Yeah, sure…whatever you want."

"Great. Well, I'll let you get back to your work. See you later!"

"Okay," he chuckled. "Bye!"

He turned to Stella with an awkward smile, suddenly feeling the need to get outside the lab again, to be on a case.

But Stella was gone.

* * *

He caught up with her in the break room. She was sitting on her own in a corner, staring at a mug of coffee. Mac sat down beside her and put a gentle hand on her arm.

"Are you planning to drink that, or are you just seeing if you can levitate it off the table?"

She smiled wearily and brushed a tear from her cheek. "I'm sorry, Mac. That wasn't very professional, running out like that. I just needed to be by myself, I guess."

"Do you want me to go? I don't want to intrude, you know that."

"It's okay. I guess I need to talk to someone, and who better, right?"

"Right. So what's going on?"

She thought about lying to him. Tell him everything was okay. But she wasn't okay. She was nowhere near okay. "Mac…" She looked up at him with heartbreakingly sad eyes. "I'm scared."

She wanted to say more, but she knew he'd already filled in the blanks. When she lifted her head, she saw that he was watching her with a look of infinite tenderness on his face.

"I'm afraid—I'm afraid that one night, I'll be lying all alone in some hospital somewhere, and all my friends will have gone home, and the nurses will be down the hall drinking their coffee or whatever, and just like that, I'll die…all alone."

Tears sprang to Mac's eyes. At that moment, he wanted more than anything to wipe the tears from her eyes and comfort her.

"Oh, Stella…" He brought a hand to her face and touched her cheek. "You're not alone."

She lifted her tearstained face and gave him a small, sad half-smile.

"Stella, I—"

"Mac?"

He started and turned to face Don, who was standing in the doorway. He lowered his hand.

"We got a shooting down at Central Park," he said. "We gotta go!"

Mac looked at Stella, unsure if he should leave her.

"Go ahead. It's okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she nodded, wiping at her eyes. "I'll be fine."

As he went to follow the young detective, Mac glanced over his shoulder. Stella resumed staring at her coffee mug, her eyes downcast. He brought his attention back to where he was going, a million thoughts running through his mind.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N and Disclaimer: The song "Why Don't You Kiss Her" belongs to Jesse McCartney.

* * *

**

_He'd finally stopped running._

_He sank to his knees, unaware of his surroundings. A shadow crept into his mind like a black cloud, spreading, pushing away light and hope, stripping away every thought but one: Stella._

_He raised his eyes. All he could see was Stella working a scene and making a teasing face, a crooked half-smile, while he discreetly took her picture. It was the last smile he could remember, but just like the sunset it faded. Though he tried to hear her laugh again, or even say his name, only silence answered._

_He rose from the ground, weak as an old man. He trudged forward, a wounded man, no longer alert or careful, in no hurry, stepping over a rock, pushing aside a leafy branch…_

"_Mac?" came a voice. _

_He quickly brushed away a tear._

_The voice came nearer. " What are you doing out here? You should be at the hospital with your friends."_

_He kept walking. "Leave me alone."_

"_Hey, wait a minute," the voice called. "Where are you going?"_

"_It's over. I couldn't save her. Stella's dying, and I'm going home now."_

"_What!? No! Stop!" Someone suddenly appeared ahead of him, walking directly toward him with a purposeful tread. Jeans and a dark sweatshirt. It was hard to make out his face beneath the hood. "You can't just give up."_

"_You can't possibly understand. You have no idea what it's like to…" Mac shook his head. "You know what, forget it." He turned on his heels and started off in the opposite direction. "I don't even know why I'm talking to you."_

"_You know, I fell in love once…with my best friend." _

_Mac stopped walking. He was listening. _

" _She was different from any woman I'd ever met. She was strong and independent. She knew how to hold her own. She was special and I loved her for it. A lot of people look up to me as a sort of hero, but she…she was my hero."_

"_Your hero, huh?" Mac said, turning to face him. "So, what happened to her?"_

_The hooded stranger looked away toward the distant city skyline and Mac could almost feel the sadness in his voice. "Oh, she stopped being _'my'_ hero a long time ago. You see, I never actually told her how I felt. I was afraid. Afraid of…" He chuckled to himself. "I don't even remember what I was afraid of anymore. _

"_Anyway, one day, she was gone. She was taken away from me. Just like that. I'd waited too long. And my life has been filled with regrets ever since. Not a day that goes by that I don't think about what I could've had." He turned back to face Mac, who'd lowered his head, silent. "Don't make the same mistake I did. No one waits forever."_

"_But Stella…she—she's in really bad shape. The doctors don't think she…" Mac was trying to hold back his emotions. "I've already lost my wife. And now, I'm gonna lose her too."_

"_What we do in love is never lost." _

_Something in Mac's mind buzzed. The stranger's words were more profound than either of them could know in that moment. Their eyes met._

"_Go to her, Mac. She needs you."_

_Mac nodded. "Thank you." He turned to leave, but there was still something he needed to know. "Who are you?"_

_The stranger chuckled, going his own way. "A friend."_

_Satisfied, Mac continued walking, but not without catching a glimpse of the stranger's face as he passed beneath a streetlamp. It was as if he'd looked into a mirror. The stranger's face was his own. A bit ragged, a few more wrinkles on his face, but identical in every other way to his own. And surprisingly enough, it didn't bother him. He'd known. Somehow, he'd always known.

* * *

_

_He got back to the hospital about an hour later. It was pretty quiet then, what with most of the staff gone home. He hadn't realized how late it had gotten. He spotted a few nurses hanging out at the nurse's station when he walked by. They were chatting amongst themselves in hushed tones, sipping at cups of coffee every few seconds._

_He continued down the hospital's maze of hallways toward her room. It looked like the rest of the team had gone home as well. There wasn't a person in sight. He pulled out his cell phone intending to call someone to let them know where he was. They'd probably been worried sick about him when he'd disappeared. Especially Peyton. He looked down at the buttons, trying to decide who to disturb at this hour and knocked on the door._

_No answer._

_He reached down and turned the knob, pushing the door open._

_"Mac?"_

_He turned and found Don standing there._

_"Where'd ya go, man? We've been lookin' everywhere for you."_

_"Why? What's wrong?" Don stared past his friend into the room with a look of infinite sadness._

_Mac followed his gaze. The answer to his question assaulted him from across the room. His eyes widened. The room was empty. Completely empty. His heart lodged in his throat as he glanced at the bed. It had been made up with new clean sheets and all the machines were turned off. The room was pristine as if no one had ever been in there. The room's sole occupant was gone._

_"Where—where is she?" he asked, his voice breathy and shaking._

_"You don't know?" Don's said. His voice quavered though he tried to control it._

_Mac shook his head, still in shock at the sight of the vacant room. He suddenly felt two strong hands on his shoulders and he closed his eyes._

_"Mac…she died a few hours ago."_

_"No…no…" With the shock wrenching his insides, he fell back against the doorframe, sick and shaking. His head sank, his hands went limp, his cell phone clattered to the ground. It was too late._

_"Before she—she…" Don took a deep breath, the painful memories still fresh in his mind. "Well, she was lookin' for you, Mac."_

_She had been looking for him and he hadn't been there. He had let her die feeling abandoned and alone._

_"No…Stella…" he sobbed. "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…"_

_"It's not too late…"

* * *

_

Mac awoke with a start and stared up at the ceiling, breathing hard. The nightmare had changed. He'd gone back, but only to find that he was too late. The fears that Stella had confided in him the previous day had become real…at least in his dreams. How could he have let that happen?

But there was something else, wasn't there? That voice telling him it wasn't too late. It was the same man from the park. He blinked. He was telling him he still had time. Time to make things right. Because in real life, Stella was still healthy and very much alive.

_Don't make the same mistake I did._

But what about Peyton? He couldn't just leave her. He loved her. He loved them both. And that broke all the rules. He didn't want to have to choose. Because he would never be able to bring himself to break either of their hearts.

But how could he forget the first person he'd fallen in love with after his wife had died…

_We're the best of friends  
And we share our secrets  
She knows everything that is on my mind  
Lately something's changed  
As I lie awake in my bed  
A voice here inside my head  
Softly says_

_Why don't you kiss her  
Why don't you tell her  
Why don't you let her see  
The feelings that you hide  
'Cause she'll never know  
If you never show  
The way you feel inside

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**Poor Mac…he's so confused. Want more? Review!**


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